


One as Lovely as She.

by lornasaurusrex



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Babies, Cheese, Fluff, M/M, Newborn Children, One Shot, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornasaurusrex/pseuds/lornasaurusrex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Louise Tomlinson-Styles had been home for all of thirty-seven minutes.  She had been screaming her tiny little head off for the last nine of those thirty-seven minutes.</p><p>AKA Harry and Louis change their newborn's first shitty diaper and Louis gags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One as Lovely as She.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a nanny. A particularly bad diaper made me gag and inspired this.
> 
> I sadly don't know/own anything related to 1D, Louis, Harry, or Stevie Wonder. 
> 
> Please do not send this or any other works to the boys, their families, or friends. 
> 
> Also, this is the first work I've ever published. I'd very much appreciate your (kind) constructive criticism so I can improve my work!

Darcy Louise Tomlinson-Styles had been home for all of thirty-seven minutes.  She had been screaming her tiny little head off for the last nine of those thirty-seven minutes. 

“Fuck, Haz, she’s so red. She’s not breathing! Is she swaddled too tight?”

“Language.  She’s breathing Lou, or she wouldn’t be so…loud.  Hold her a minute.  I’ll try the milk in a different bottle.  Maybe she doesn’t like the teat.  I’ll put a faster flowing one on,” Harry rambled and over-gently handed their two-day-old daughter to a wide-eyed Louis before he skittered away to the kitchen to dump their surrogate’s breast milk into a different bottle. 

Louis cradled their tiny baby girl in his arms, bouncing her gently and singing _Isn’t She Lovely_ over her shrieks.  She’d been crying so hard that she’d turned a deep purple-red under her head full of thick brown hair, and her tiny high-pitched wail was tearing Louis apart because he just couldn’t understand what she needed.

“Darcy, baby girl, Daddy is trying, what do you need? Dada is coming with your bottle and your nappy is dry.”  She tensed, arched her tiny back, and Louis heard and felt her fill her nappy against his arm, before she immediately stopped crying.  Louis couldn’t help but laugh, and he yelled toward the kitchen, “Harry, she just had to poo!”  

“Can you change her? I made a mess in here. Be right in.”

“I’ll try, Babe. We didn’t do any poo nappies at the hospital!”

“Just don’t forget to wipe front-to-back! And use the special nappies with the notch cut out for her umbilical cord stump.”

“Front-to-back!  Umbilical nappy!  Got it,” Louis exhaled and carried her to her nursery that he and Harry had painted in the softest near-white baby pink and trimmed with playful lavenders. Louis carefully placed her on her changing table and fastened the straps across her belly to keep her from rolling off.  She fussed and grunted, kicking, but not screeching like before.

“Okay Darcy, Daddy’s going to change you.” Louis unsnapped her frilly pink onesie and started singing again, somewhat awed by her skinny little bow legs kicking out at him as he unfastened the tabs to open the nappy, “ _But isn’t she lovely made from-“_ Louis gagged, actually physically retched, and flipped the nappy back over to cover her mess, “fuck, shit, Darcy, Princess, oh my god.  _Harry_!” 

Harry rushed to his family, shirtless from the spill, with a new bottle in hand, “What is it?”

“Something’s wrong with her poo. It looks like _tar_.”

Harry smiled fondly, unsurprised.  “You didn’t read the book at all did you, Boo?” 

“Babe, you know I never read books, even if you tell me I have to.”

“It’s meconium,” Harry told him flatly. 

“It’s shit.”

“Yes, but, it’s meconium. All her…uhm, womb-stuff is in it.”

Louis’ voice was panicky, “It doesn’t even smell bad, but I _heaved_ when I saw it. Did we fuck up? What if I can’t do this?”

“Language around the baby!”

“Harry, I’m serious.  Fuck is going to be her first word and I already can’t do something we’re going to be doing daily for the next two years at least.”

“Lou, she’s uncomfortable, let’s change her and have our existential crisis afterward,” Harry said softly, giving the nape of Louis’ neck a gentle squeeze. 

Louis folded his arms over his chest, pouting and watching Darcy squirm and fuss.  “You try, then.” 

Harry spoke softly to her,  “Princess, I promise I’ll make Daddy read the book later.” Harry lifted the nappy and peered into it, immediately putting it back where it was just like Louis had before, and whispering, “Fuck, Louis.”

Louis smirked, mocking Harry,  “Language around the baby.”

Harry glared at him.  “You get the rest of today’s nappies.” Harry held his breath, lifted her delicate ankles in his large hands and used the nappy to get her as clean as he could before pulling it from under her. Harry went through nine wipes before Louis scooted in to help by folding the tiny dirty nappy around the tower of discarded wipes.  “She’s going to need a bath Lou, this stuff is like glue.”

Louis noticed how quiet Darcy had gotten and whispered, “She’s fallin’ asleep.  We can bathe her after she wakes up.” 

Harry used several more wipes; worried she wasn’t clean enough, until Louis closed up the box and scooted Harry aside. He opened a clean nappy and carefully slid it under her, and sprinkled (dumped) some baby powder onto her, which prompted a giggle from Harry, “We need some more practice, Boo.”

Louis laughed too, fastening the nappy on their now sleeping daughter and snapping her onesie back together.  He smiled warmly at Harry, who stood hunched over the opposite end of the changing table and whispered, “You did it, Dada.  Thank you.”

“You helped too, Daddy. We can do anything, together.”

Louis blushed slightly, ashamed of his moment of panic, and dropped the nappy and wipes into the rubbish bin.  He used another wipe to clean Harry’s hands first, and then his own while Harry unfastened the straps and picked Darcy up off the changing table.  He cradled her carefully against him and walked with Louis to their bedroom.  His dodgy back ached from leaning over her at the changing table, so he leaned back on the stack of pillows on the bed, holding her sprawled out on her belly against his bare chest.

Louis grinned and hissed out softly, ”Don’t move!” He ran to the nursery to grab her forgotten bottle and Harry’s camera.  He hurried back and took several photos of them from different angles.  The harsh look of Harry’s tattoos combined with the tenderness of his grip on her, and the adoration in his eyes made for beautiful photos that nearly moved Louis to tears.   Even more beautiful was the way she had positioned herself on Harry in her slumber, legs tucked underneath her belly, bum in the air, with her teeny-tiny hands open, each one resting daintily upon a swallow tattoo. 

Her head faced Harry’s left arm; toward the ship to Louis’ compass, toward the anchor to Louis’ rope, toward the _Hi_ to Louis’ _Oops_ , toward the reversed heart to represent her Daddy’s heart on her Dada’s body, the horseshoe nails to Louis’ horseshoe, their Claddagh hands, the rose to Louis’ dagger, and the rest of the deeply symbolic tattoos they shared, new and old. 

Louis crawled onto his side of the bed, curled up next to them, and reached into the pocket of Harry’s jeans to grab his phone. He snapped a few selfies of the three of them together and leaned up to take a picture of Darcy’s petite little toes just above Harry’s butterfly tattoo.  Louis kissed her head, her hands, the swallow that represented Harry, and then Harry’s lips. “Guess we’ve survived worse than a _mac-a-aronium_ diaper.” 

Harry giggled quietly and grabbed his phone from Louis to look at the picture.  “Meconium.  We have.  It’s only our first day home, Louis, we’re doing fine. Look at her, sleeping like an angel.  Would you put some coconut oil on my tattoo for me?  It’s itchy.” The two of them had left the Shangri-La Tattoo Parlour, with their newest matching tattoos, mere hours before they received the call to inform them that their surrogate’s water had broken.

“Yeah, Babe.”  Louis got up to fetch it from their bathroom and returned to the bed with the oil, kneeling next to them.  He melted a pinch of it in his hands, and Harry scooted Darcy over a bit so Louis could tenderly rub it over Harry’s scabby tattoo, _Darcy Louise,_ right above his heart.  Louis used the oil that remained in his other hand to moisturize his own before snuggling up to Harry and interlocking their fingers over her back.

“Ta,” Harry said and kissed Louis, then used his free hand to post the photo of Darcy’s feet to his Instagram with the caption, ‘ _Isn’t She Lovely.’_

Louis beamed as he watched Harry enter the caption, whispering, “Period. No question mark. There’s certainly no question. I love you, Harry.”

“Love you, Lou.” 

He rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, and watched him send the pictures of the three of them to their families and closest friends, giggling as Harry’s phone exploded with several loud notifications almost instantly, waking the baby.  Harry whimpered and lifted her, turning her over in his arms to cradle her on her back. Louis laughed and pulled his own phone from his pocket and tweeted, ‘ _Made From Love :) !!’_ before offering Darcy her bottle and cooing to her, “Guess we don’t need to keep our phones turned up so loud now that you’re finally here, Princess.”


End file.
